Ada Cambridge

[Ada Cross] (21 November 1844 – 19 July 1926 / St Gemans, Norfolk)

Ada Cambridge Poems

41. Good-Bye 1/4/2003
42. Granny 3/2/2010
43. Grey 3/2/2010
44. Holy Communion 3/2/2010
45. Home-Sick 3/2/2010
46. Honour 1/4/2003
47. I Dare Not 3/3/2010
48. In Memoriam 3/2/2010
49. Individuality 3/2/2010
50. Influence 3/2/2010
51. Learn 3/2/2010
52. Listening 3/3/2010
53. London 3/3/2010
54. Looking In The Fire 3/2/2010
55. Lord Nevil's Advice 3/2/2010
56. Mates 3/2/2010
57. Midnight 3/3/2010
58. Mirage 3/2/2010
59. Nightfall In The Fens 3/3/2010
60. On Australian Hills 1/1/2004
61. Ordained 3/3/2010
62. Outcast 3/2/2010
63. Peace 3/2/2010
64. Possibilities 3/3/2010
65. Practising The Anthem 3/2/2010
66. Profit And Loss 3/3/2010
67. Reaction 3/3/2010
68. Recollection 3/2/2010
69. Responsibility 3/3/2010
70. Seed-Time And Harvest 3/2/2010
71. Seeking 3/3/2010
72. Shadow And Substance 3/3/2010
73. Sic Vos Non Vobis 3/2/2010
74. The Baptistry 3/2/2010
75. The Candle Of The Lord 3/2/2010
76. The Coo Of The Cushat 3/2/2010
77. The Crown Of Thorns 3/2/2010
78. The Dawn 3/2/2010
79. The Dawn Of God's Sabbath 1/1/2004
80. The Easter Decorations 3/2/2010

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Best Poem of Ada Cambridge

A Dream Of Venice

NUMB, half asleep, and dazed with whirl of wheels,
And gasp of steam, and measured clank of chains,
I heard a blithe voice break a sudden pause,
Ringing familiarly through the lamp-lit night,
“Wife, here's your Venice!”
I was lifted down,
And gazed about in stupid wonderment,
Holding my little Katie by the hand—
My yellow-haired step-daughter. And again
Two strong arms led me to the water-brink,
And laid me on soft cushions in a boat,—
A queer boat, by a queerer boatman manned—
Swarthy-faced, ragged, with a scarlet cap—
Whose wild, weird ...

Read the full of A Dream Of Venice

The Virgin Martyr

Every wild she-bird has nest and mate in the warm April weather,
But a captive woman, made for love -- no mate, no nest has she.
In the spring of young desire, young men and maids are wed together,
And the happy mothers flaunt their bliss for all the world to see:
Nature's sacramental feast for these -- an empty board for me.

I, a young maid once, an old maid now, deposed, despised, forgotten --
I, like them have thrilled with passion and have dreamed of nuptial rest,
Of the trem

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